


Suspicions

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-06
Updated: 1999-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: An investigation has devastating results.  Phil learns some shocking information. This story is a sequel toTangled Webs.





	Suspicions

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment  
of fans

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me; Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Suspicions

By Cassandra Hope

(Copyright May 1999)

 

"W

hat  
are your plans for today?" Benton Fraser asked as he straightened his  
Sam Browne belt and reached for his Stetson.

"I'm having lunch with an old friend." Becka Fraser nervously downed the last of her coffee knowing full well that there was more to Ben's question than simple curiosity.

"An old friend? Anyone I know?" 

Becka poured herself another cup of coffee then turned to face her brother. "I'm not having lunch with TJ, if that's what you're worried about." 

The slight edge to her voice was the only indication that Ben had that Becka had seen through his simple question. As suspected, the question **had** been about TJ McKenzie and she had seen through his ploy. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line, Becka. It's just that I'm concerned that you might be..."

"Benny, we went for a cup of coffee. That's all. Nothing happened and nothing will. You should know by now that I'd never do anything to hurt youincluding dating the brother of the woman you almost married. Now, you'd better get going or Thatcher will have you standing guard duty again."

"I don't think she'd resort to that considering the heat wave we are currently experiencing."

"With that woman you can never be sure, Benny. Just remember, her dislike of the Fraser clan goes way back."

Remembering a time long past, Ben said, "I can see your point, Becka." Placing the Stetson on his head, he smiled, then opened the door of the apartment.

"Oh, Benny, I almost forgot, can you take Dief with you? Willie is still gone and I don't want to leave Dief here by himself."

"Dief doesn't need a dog-sitter, Becka. He's used to staying by himself. I only hired Willie to give him something constructive to do," Ben gently reminded her.

"I'm sure Dief is used to being by himself but I'd feel better if he could go with you. I'll pick him up after my luncheon engagement."

"Oh, all right. Honestly, Becka, you're spoiling him. What's he going to do when you return to Canada?"

*Woof* Dief felt it was time to join this conversation.

"Oh, really? You're on vacation?" Ben stared down at the wolf. "I think not! Since when do you need a vacation?"

Becka smiled as she closed the door behind her brother. She could still hear Ben's voice as he argued with Dief. She listened until his voice faded from hearing. Turning, she surveyed the apartment and decided to tidy up before her luncheon date with Phil. She was relieved that Ben had not pursued that chain of thought earlier. Opening the door of the closet, she searched for a clean set of sheets. Soon the bed was made, the dirty linens placed in the laundry basket, the dishes washed, the sparse furniture polished, and the floor swept. _'Quite the little domestic, aren't we?'_ she asked herself. 

Stretching her hands over her head, she caught sight of the clock. It was time to get ready to meet Phil McKenzie. One part of her mind looked forward to meeting the woman; another part dreaded it. What would she be like? Was she anything like her brother, TJ? If so, then she could understand how Ben could have fallen in love with her. A sigh escaped her pursed lips. Too bad TJ was Phil's brother. He was an interesting man and, had this been another time and another place, she might have considered getting to know him better. But it wasn't and it never would be. Besides, she was here to help her brother not find someone for herself **not** that she was looking. There were too many obstacles to overcome in her life to permit her to do that.

Grabbing her toiletry bag, she headed for the communal bath. She could just get in a quick shower. Returning to Ben's apartment, she slipped on a soft yellow print blouse and a crisp beige skirt. A touch of makeup and she was ready to face Phil McKenzie.

* * *

Phil donned an ivory lace shell and sky blue skirt over her ivory teddy. Since she knew she would be leaving the office today, she decided against slacks. As much as she hated to admit it, prospective clients seemed to expect her to wear a dress. Honestly! Did they think she shot rapids in a skirt, hiked 20 miles in a skirt, or climbed mountains in a skirt? Why then should she have to wear a skirt to conduct her business dealings? Snorting in disgust, she looked forward to the time when gender wouldn't be an issue. But, to be on the safe side, she wore a skirt whenever she met with a new client. Phil wondered briefly what type of program Ms. Smith would be interested in. As with any new venture, Phil looked forward to meeting the woman. Grabbing the matching blazer, she left her apartment heading for the offices of BakTrak on the second floor. Not for the first time, Phil was thankful that she'd discovered this old brownstone building.

With Mark gone to Australia, the workload was split between Phil and her office assistant, Jeff Bowers. Mark's presence would be sorely missed but the prospect of a trip offering to the Great Barrier Reef was something worth the hassle of being momentarily short-handed. Trevor Sinclair, Casey's son, would be filling in for Mark for a couple of weeks. It was never too early to get in some 'on-the-job' training and the experience would do Trevor a world of good. It wouldn't hurt BakTrak either. When Trevor graduated, Phil planned on offering a position at BakTrak to the young man she'd come to love as a nephew.

Shortly after arriving at the office, Phil's first appointment showed up. "Dr. Martin, it's so good to see you," Phil said as she extended her hand to greet her old friend.

"Now, Phil, how many times have I told you to call me Colin. We're way past the professor-student stage."

"Force of habit, Colin. How are you?" 

"Fine, fine. Looking forward to the trip this year."

"I know what you mean, I wish I were heading it up this trip. Maybe next year I'll do it. We should have the Aleutian volcanic trip ready for you to lead by then."

"Volcanics...right up my alley!" Dr. Martin smiled as he accepted the cup of coffee Phil offered him.

The next hour was spent going over the upcoming geological field trip to the Grand Canyon more than a month away. Both Phil and Dr. Martin had led the excursion so the time passed quickly as the details of the trip were ironed out. Dr. Martin left promising to keep Phil up-to-date on everything. 

Before Phil knew it, it was nearing 11:30 and her luncheon appointment with Jane Smith. She was not surprised when Jeff paged her letting her know that Ms. Smith had arrived. Phil gathered her blazer and handbag and stepped through the door of her office. 

"Hello, I'm Dr. Phil McKenzie." She offered her hand to the woman patiently waiting for her.

"Hello, Dr. McKenzie, I'm Jane Smith." 

* * *

The green Buick Riviera drew up in front of the Canadian consulate quickly sliding into the only vacant spot available for three blocks. Ray Vecchio grinned with satisfaction. No doubt about it, when it came to all things pertaining to cars (including parking spaces), Ray was a master. He polished the fingernails of his right hand on the shoulder of his smoke grey Armani suit then blew on them lightly. A master indeed!

Exiting the Riv, Ray bustled up the stairs noting with some amazement at the lack of a Mountie on sentry duty. "What's the world coming to? No guard to keep marauding Chicagoans at bay?" Ray mumbled as he opened the door and entered the building. He took the stairs two at a time, slapped an open hand on Turnbull's desk, and watched the younger Mountie jump nearly out of his skin. "What's happening, Turnbull?"

"Ah, Detective Vecchio," Turnbull returned his chair to all four legs on the floor. "Ah, um...well, ah...happening? I don't believe I understand the question."

Ray leaned over the desk and motioned for Turnbull to come closer. Turnbull inched closer and cocked his head. In a voice barely above a whisper, Ray said, "Turnbull, next time someone asks you _'what's happening?'_ you say _'not much, man.'_ You got that?" Turnbull slowly nodding his head, winked an eye, and gave Ray the universal thumbs-up sign of understanding.

Ray grinned. "Okay, let's try it again. What's happening, Turnbull?"

Turnbull returned the grin. "Not much, man."

"See now? That wasn't hard, was it?"

"No, it's just that American idiomatic expressions are somewhat difficult to comprehend."

"I hear you, Turnbull. Say," Ray paused, "I can't keep on calling you Turnbull. You do have a first name, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact I do. It's Renfield."

"Renfield?" Ray found it hard not to laugh. What was it with Canadian Christian names? Was there something in the Canadian constitution that required men to be stuck with first names like Benton and now Renfield?

"It's a family name, passed down from the first Turnbulls to immigrate to Canada."

Diplomatically, Ray said, "It's an interesting name, I'll give you that." Motioning with his head, he indicated the door to Fraser's office. "Is Fraser here?"

"Yes he is, Detective Vecchio."

"Ray."

"Ray." Turnbull smiled.

Ray knocked once on the door before barging in. "Hiya, Benny."

"Ray, it's good to see you." Ben looked down from the chair he was standing on.

"You need some help there, Benny?"

"Could you hand me that pushpin on my desk? I've dropped the one I had and I can't reach my desk from here."

"Sure thing, Benny." Ray retrieved the pushpin and handed it to Ben. 

Ben used it to tack the last corner of a large map of Canada to the wall opposite his desk. Stepping down off his chair, he took a moment to critically analyze the positioning of the map. "I think this corner is a little high. What do you think, Ray?"

"It looks fine, Benny."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"I don't know..." Ben turned back to the map.

"It's fine, Benny," Ray said with some impatience. "Who's gonna notice if your map is a little crooked?"

"Then it is crooked?" Ben asked as he viewed the map once more.

Ray sighed. Fraser wouldn't be satisfied until the map hung square and centered on the wall. Shaking his head, he resigned himself to the role he knew was being thrust upon him. Stepping up into the chair, he removed the pushpin and slid the map down an inch.

"Ray, what are you doing?"

"Fraser, if I don't help you straighten this map right here and now, it will worry you until you straighten it yourself. I'm just cutting to the chase. Let's get this thing straight so I can talk with you without having you staring at this thing instead of paying attention to me."

"Well, if you insist..."

"I insist...in fact, I demand you hurry up and decide where this stinking map needs to go."

"Very well, Ray. It needs to go up approximately 1.7 centimeters."

Ray stared at the map then back down at Ben. "1.7 centimeters? What's that in American?"

"About half of an inch."

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Ray moved the map up slightly. "How's that?"

"Just another millimeter...that's it, Ray, and by the way, there is no odor associated with that map."

Sighing deeply, Ray applied a firm pressure to the pushpin impaling the hapless map of Canada to the wall. He carefully stepped down from the chair. "Okay, now that Canada has been secured, can we talk?"

"Certainly, Ray." Ben studied the placement of the map one last time before taking his seat on the other side of his desk. "What do you wish to talk about?"

Ray pulled the chair up next to the desk. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped his footprints from the seat before sitting down himself. He stared thoughtfully across the desk at his friend. "You know, Benny, I really don't know why I'm here."

"Perhaps it's something to do with your current case, Ray." Ben leaned back in his chair settling in for whatever Ray had to say. 

"I don't know. Something just doesn't seem right and I can't put my finger on it." Ray stroked his chin with his right hand before bringing the fist down and pounding impotently on the arm of his chair. "Dammit, Benny, I should be able to see it. Something's not right with this whole setup. Little Mike didn't seem a bit concerned about coming back to Chicago. We know he has connections to the dealers but, so far, we have nothing that would bring him down as well. For some reason, I have this creepy crawly feeling on the back of my neck that says we're overlooking something but what that could be, I just don't know."

"What do you have in mind?" Ben asked. Recalling Ray's previous success with the Howard and Reith case, he knew that Ray most likely already had a plan of action prepared.

Ray's eyebrows shot up in surprise. How could Ben possibly know that there was something he wanted to do? Then again, Ben could read him pretty well. "I'd like to take another look at that warehouse where we first encountered the gun runners."

"The one down near the docks?"

"The very same."

Ben stood and reached for his Stetson. "After you."

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Ask what?" Ben queried as the two men descended the stairs of the consulate.

"You know!"

"I do not!"

"Just forget it, will ya!" Ray's response held a note of impatience.

"All right," Ben said as he opened the door of the Riv and let Diefenbaker into the rear seat.

Ray sighed and shook his head in annoyance. Even though the Mountie was his best friend, there were times when he questioned his continued association with the man. No one could irritate him as quickly or as easily as Benton Fraser.

* * *

The two women stepped out of the elevator and strolled toward the door. Phil spoke to the woman beside her, "Ms. Smith, perhaps you could tell me a little about what you are interested in. It would help me to organize my thoughts on our way to the restaurant." She stopped suddenly when she realized that her companion was no longer beside her. Turning, she saw Ms. Smith standing rigid, her hands clenched at her sides and a look of pain on her face. Hurrying to her side, Phil breathlessly asked, "Ms. Smith, is something wrong?"

Becka dropped her head until she could plainly see her feet. Ms. Smith? The lie rankled and she felt the revulsion raise shivers that raced up and down her spine. Lifting her head, Phil's face, full of concern, came into view. _'I can't lie to her,'_ Becka told herself. A lie was no way to begin with Phil McKenzie. "Dr. McKenzie...Phil, I'm sorry. No, there's nothing wrong that can't be taken care of with the simple truth."

Puzzled, Phil shook her head slightly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"How could you?" Becka turned away from Phil and stared at the small indoors garden plot. 

Even more confused, Phil said, "Now I'm totally lost. Perhaps if you'd just tell me what 'simple truth' you're talking about."

Becka sighed then turned back to face Phil. "My name isn't Jane Smith. It's Rebecca Fraser."

Phil's demeanor became thoughtful. Where had she heard that name before? Rebecca Fraser...Becka Fraser...Ben's sister. She stared at the woman. Yes, she could she the resemblance--the same blue eyes, the same set to the jaw. Ben's sister.

In a voice made small by the hand she placed at her throat, she whispered, "You're Ben's sister."

Becka pursed her lips then bobbed her head. "I apologize for the ruse. I was afraid you wouldn't see me."

"Ben's sister?" Phil swallowed hard trying to gather her scattered wits.

Becka smiled and placed a hand on Phil's arm. "I'm sorry for the shock." She watched the shocked look on Phil's face disappear as a crooked grin spread across her face.

"Shock doesn't begin to cover it." She chuckled darkly before continuing, "I think I smell Cat's meddling here."

Becka's smile widened into a grinned that exposed her white teeth. "Got that in one. She said you were quick on the uptake."

"I think I'll...I'll strangle her the next time I see her," Phil remarked with just enough humor in her voice to let Becka know that she wasn't serious. Or was she?

"She means well, Phil. When she found out I was coming to Chicago she made me promise to stop by and talk with you. I...I really didn't want to, what with the situation between you and Ben..."

"There **is** no situation between us."

"I know that, Phil. But Cat has other ideas."

Phil let her breath whistle out between her teeth. "She doesn't take no for an answer, does she?"

"She **is** very diligent."

Phil nodded her head in agreement. "So, you aren't here to talk about my company putting together some type of excursion."

"No...but I promised Cat and..." Becka paused. What did she want to say to Phil?

"And?" Phil prompted.

"And now that I've met you I'd like the chance to talk to you."

"Do you think that's wise?" Phil didn't and the coldness in her voice reflected that. She didn't want anything that reminded her of Ben. Talking to his sister could only add more flesh to his memories.

"Maybe not, Phil, but Cat's a pretty good judge of character and I'd hate to miss any opportunity to meet someone that she thought so highly of."

What could Phil say to that? If she refused she would be calling Cat a liar. Yet, if she agreed to talk with Becka, she would be opening herself up for additional hurt and that was one thing she wanted to avoid. Benton Fraser had already hurt her enough. Finally she bit her lip and nodded her head. "On one condition..."

"And that would be?"

"I don't want to talk about Ben."

"Understood."

Phil glanced back at the door to the building and the bustling street beyond. The thought of talking with Ben's sister in a public place such as a restaurant seemed inappropriate. She wanted someplace more private and there really was only one place that fit the bill. Sighing, she spoke, "Let's head up to my apartment." She headed back to the elevators, Becka following closely behind.

Becka followed Phil into the elevator car and then out onto the fifth floor of the building. Phil strode purposefully down the hall and inserted a key into a door. Following her into the apartment, Becka was struck by the eclectic choice of furnishings and the comfortable atmosphere. She could tell that a lot of effort and love had gone into making the apartment a home.

"I'll be back in a moment," Phil said as she drew off her suit jacket and carried it into her bedroom. Quickly stripping out of the hated skirt, she drew on a pair of navy slacks. 

Becka mumbled a noncommittal assent, her eyes darting quickly about the room. The reflection of light on a photo drew her into the dining room where she faced a wall of photos. It reminded her of Cat's wall. Moving closer she studied the pictures smiling when she spotted Ben's image. She recognized Cat and TJ but her eyes were drawn to a large photo of a small child in a red dress. Stunned, Becka stared at the engaging features of the child. How was it possible that Phil had one of her baby pictures? Realization dawned and Becka drew in a sharp breath. Any doubts she might have had died. This must be Lindy. There was no doubting her parentage. Ben's daughter stared back at her through laughing eyes. Unbidden, a tear streaked her cheek and a sob caught in her throat. Such a beautiful child...never to be known by her father...her aunt. Life suddenly seemed very unfair.

Phil stood in the archway watching Becka's reactions to her wall of photos. When Becka reached out a finger and traced a small circle on Lindy's photo, Phil felt a moment of panic. How much did she know? What had Cat told her? Did she know about Lindy? Coming up behind Becka, she spoke softly, "I borrowed the idea from Cat."

Becka swung around to face Phil. She quickly wiped the tears from her face but not before Phil had seen the evidence of her distress. "I'm sorry if I've intruded, Phil."

"As Cat once told me _'If I didn't want people to look at my photos then I wouldn't put them on the wall for everyone to see',_ " Phil said in her best imitation of Cat's brusque tones. "I feel the same way."

Becka turned back to the photos. Her finger once more made a small circle on Lindy's image. "She's beautiful, Phil," she said with a catch in her voice.

All doubt was removed from Phil's mind. Becka knew about Lindy. "How? Did Cat tell you?"

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking, Phil. She never meant to tell me. We were talking late one night and things drifted around to Ben." Forestalling Phil's objection, she continued, "I know you don't want to talk about him and I won't but let me finish this first. We were talking about Ben and how he's doing and Cat was really upset. I said something I shouldn't have and Cat said something about seeing his daughter in her dreams."

Phil's heart ached for her friend. She knew Cat had taken the knowledge of Lindy's short life and death hard but to dream about her? "I never meant to tell her. There has already been too much sadness connected with Lindy's life and it shouldn't be like that. She was the best thing that ever happened to me and I'm just sorry that Ben never got to know her." She lightly shook her head before chuckling softly. "I asked you not to talk about Ben and here I am talking about him myself."

"Is that surprising?"

"Not really." Phil smiled sadly at Becka. "I'm sorry, I'm being a lousy host. Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry?"

"I'd love something cold to drink, Phil."

*Meow* Chance chose that moment to slink out of the bedroom.

"Is this Chance? Cat told me about him. Aren't you a beautiful animal?" Becka cooed as she bent down and picked up the cat.

Phil shook her head in amazement. "He normally isn't this friendly with strangers."

"That's because he knows I'm not a stranger. In fact, Cat has promised me one of Bella's next litter." Becka set Chance back on the floor and watched as he slithered over to the sofa, jumped upon it, hiked a leg, and began grooming himself. 

"Cats!" Phil said with some disgust. Entering the kitchen, she dug through the refrigerator, then turned to Becka who was now seated at the bar. "I've got some limeade, tea, or beer."

"Beer? I thought Cat said you didn't drink."

"I don't. I keep a supply here for Martin."

"Martin?"

" Martin and I are...I love him." Phil straightened before turning to face Becka. "I'm getting on with my life, Becka."

Becka heard the words but sensed a lack of conviction behind them. "What are you trying to tell me, Phil. I know that there are years of pain and loneliness that separates you from Ben, but I also know you still care for him." How she knew that she didn't know but she knew it to be the truth.

Before Becka could see the anger that boiled up in her soul, Phil turned back to the cabinets and opened one. How dare she try to tell her how she felt? Especially how she felt about Ben. Removing a couple of glasses, she filled them with ice cubes then poured limeade over the ice. 

Did she still care for Ben? Phil already knew the answer to that question. She would always care for him. Mechanically, she placed a glass in front of Becka then settled onto another bar stool. Staring into the chilled drink, she thought about Ben. As long as she lived she would care for him. She had loved him with all of her heart but he had broken it long ago. Her anger quickly dissipated. Lifting her eyes, she glanced sideways at the other woman. "Truthfully, Becka...I will always care for Ben. But that is all. I have something with Martin--something I will never have with Ben. **He** made that clear years ago. I've learned to live without Benton Fraser in my life and I've found love with someone else. I told Cat **that** not two weeks ago."

"And how did she take it?"

"She thinks I'm making a big mistake."

"Are you?"

"No. At least I don't think I am. Sometimes I can't tell anymore. All I know is I'm tired of being alone. TJ says I'm just being picky--that I could've had any number of men by now if I just wouldn't compare them with..." Phil's voice trailed off when she realized what she had said. Why was she being so forthcoming with Becka? It wasn't as if they would ever see each other again and she really had no good reason to share such personal information with this stranger--even if she was Ben's sister.

"I met your brother last night." Images of TJ's handsome faced filled Becka's thoughts and she missed the latter portion of Phil's comment. 

Surprised, Phil asked, "Which one? TJ or Rob? How? Where?"

"I attended a seminar at the museum last night."

"You helped TJ set up some of the exhibits for the upcoming opening?"

Becka nodded her head. "I had a great time and TJ asked me out for coffee after we'd finished. He's a nice man, Phil."

"Yes, he is."

"Don't worry, Phil. Nothing happened. We just had coffee."

Phil caught the wistfulness in Becka's voice and turned to stare at the woman seated beside her. Was something going on here that she didn't know about? Something nagged at the back of her mind--something about horse and TJ. What it was she couldn't quite recall. Perhaps it was that unknown memory that affected Phil's perception making her suspicious of Becka's motives. "You sound like you would have liked for something to happen."

Becka's chin snapped up as she stared at Phil's countenance. "Nothing happened, Phil, because we both knew that nothing could. There is no way that I would become involved in a relationship with a man that would continually remind my brother of you." Becka's voice was hard and brittle.

An uneasy silence settled between the two women as the harsh phrases replayed themselves in their minds. Finally, Phil spoke, "I'm sorry, Becka. I didn't mean to say that. It's just that I tend to be a little protective of TJ. He's been hurt before."

"I know. Cat told me his story."

"It seems that Cat told you a lot about my family." Phil sighed, a little peeved at Cat for revealing so much about her private life.

"Don't take it personally, Phil. Cat is like that with the people she considers her family. It only goes to show how much she cares for you. I'd be worried if she didn't talk about you."

Phil buried her face in her hands. Moments later she raised it, raking the fingers down her cheeks. "How did I ever get in this mess in the first place?"

"I think Cat said you fell down a mineshaft."

Phil chuckled. "No, it goes back a lot farther than that. Back to when I was a naïve girl who thought that love conquered all. Now I know better."

Becka nodded her head. "Understood."

Phil smiled then reached for the phone. "How does Chinese sound? I know this place that has great Kung Pao Chicken."

Becka cocked an eyebrow. "You still want to eat lunch with me? I thought by now you'd be ready to show me the door and say _'good riddance.'_ "

"If we promise not to bring up Ben, TJ, or Cat, I think we can manage a meal together. So...Chinese?"

"Sounds good," Becka agreed.

* * *

The drive across town to the warehouse on the docks took less time than Ray had originally thought. Even with the delays caused by the maze of construction currently underway on Lakeshore Drive, the Riv made good time. Ray pulled his car into the same alleyway it had occupied weeks ago. Fumbling for his cell-phone, he flipped it open and began dialing. Before he could depress the last number he flipped the phone closed and replaced it in the pocket of his suit. Ben cocked an eyebrow and Ray felt a need to explain his actions.

"I'll let the Lieutenant know if we find anything. No use bothering him before we know what we've got."

"Wise precaution, Ray." 

The two men and one wolf left the Riv and strolled toward the warehouse. A strip of yellow 'police line' tape stretched tautly across the door. Elsewhere the tape sagged listlessly and occasionally stirred in the fitful breeze that made its way down the street from the direction of the lake. To the most casual of observers the tape across the door appeared intact. However, Fraser was nothing if not a careful observer. He soon spotted the mismatched wording on the tape: 

POLICE LINE DONOT CROSS. Taking the  
erroneous piece of tape in hand, he turned it over.

"What'd ya find, Benny?" Ray asked as he leaned closer for a better look. He'd long since given up on understanding why Fraser did the things he did or how he knew something wasn't right by just noticing trivial things. If the police tape held any tales then Fraser was the one to pull them forth.

"Hmm?" Ben continued to stare at the strip of yellow plastic.

"Fraser! Either tell me what you see in that tape or let's get a move on. I don't want to stand out here all day!"

"I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that I noticed that this tape seems to have been cut then taped back together. See..." Ben held the tape out for inspection, "...see how the spacing between the words 'do' and 'not' do not match the spacing between the other words." 

"Maybe it's just a mistake."

"No, it's deliberate. See, the back has been taped together with cellophane tape."

Ray took the piece of tape and looked at both sides. Sure enough, there was tape on the reverse that marked a definite cut. "Why would anyone want to cut the tape then repair it? It's not like it's worth anything and the area has been thoroughly covered by the forensic teams. Why go to all the trouble of repairing the tape when you could just as easily tear it apart?" Ray gripped the tape and pulled. The piece stretched then finally parted.

"Ray, notice how this door opens outward. If someone were to open this door it would tear the tape. Perhaps whoever gained access to the interior of this warehouse didn't wish that fact to be known. If they had broken the tape as you've just done it would have been immediately apparent that someone had crossed the police line."

"So they cut the ends and taped it back together so's no one would know? I just knew there was something fishy about this whole set-up. Do you think forensics might have missed something? Maybe we should take another look around." Ray spoke over his shoulder as he pulled the door open and entered the darkened interior of the warehouse.

"I think that's highly unlikely, Ray," Ben answered but Ray was already gone. Shaking his head, he held the door open for Dief. "Let a Chicago cop save your life and you pay and pay and pay," he muttered under his breath.

Following Ray into the warehouse, Ben stopped long enough to let his light-sensitized eyes adjust to the semidarkness of the gloomy building. A stiletto of light shot across the room and Ben recognized the pencil flashlight Ray carried in his pocket. Cardboard boxes and packing crates were strewn across the floor and piled precariously high beneath a walkway that was dimly visible in the gloom. Bags of Styrofoam peanuts spilled their contents among the jumble of boxes. He headed toward the bouncing beam of light. Diefenbaker headed toward the scurrying sounds of what might turn out to be a tasty snack.

"Hey, Benny, let's check up there." Ray pointed with his flashlight toward a flight of stairs leading to the walkway and a series of what appeared to be offices on an upper level. Leading the way, he climbed the stairs and opened the door to the first office. A table, three folding chairs, a bookcase, and a file cabinet occupied the tiny room. Drawers stood open in the cabinet and what files remained were strewn haphazardly across the table and onto the floor. Ray picked up one, read the file notation, and grunted. "Seed catalogs. Why would gun runners be interested in seed catalogs?" Picking up another folder, he read, "Office equipment. Doesn't look like anything of importance here, Benny."

"Doesn't appear to be, Ray." Ben stood near the door scanning the room. He stepped back flush with the wall then paced the width of the room. "Hmm..."

"What is it now, Benny?" Ray tossed the file folders on the table and watched his friend pace the width of the room. "Comparing it with your office?" 

"Uh, no, Ray. Just felt like pacing."

Ray rolled his eyes and headed for the door. Motioning with his hand, he said, "Let's try the next one."

The next room contained even less than the previous one. The single file cabinet stood against the back wall and a dilapidated sofa occupied the left wall. Ben again paced the width of the room then knelt to examine the floor.

"There's nothing here, Fraser, nothing at all." Disappointed, Ray turned to leave.

"That may not be true, Ray. There may be something here. We just can't see it."

"What? Is it invisible?" Ray scanned the room once more. If there was anything here, he sure couldn't see it.

"Shine your light down here, Ray," Ben asked as he continued to kneel on the floor.

"Why? So you can lick the floor?" But he shone the light on the floor in front of the kneeling Mountie.

"Look at this, Ray," Ben said as he indicated some faint marks on the floor.

"Yeah, so the floor is scuffed. This is a warehouse, for crying out loud. Floors get scuffed."

"Not like this, Ray. See these marks," he pointed to a parallel set of gouges in the linoleum, "they appear to be recent additions to the floor. It looks like that file cabinet has been pulled out into the middle of the floor and then pushed back against the wall. See...here are the gouges that show how it was levered back-and-forth away from the wall. These show how it was forcefully pushed back."

"Benny, I don't think that someone's attempt at redecorating is any cause for concern."

"Normally not, Ray, but notice how these gouges cut across this patch of..."

"Eeeuuw, Benny, don't do that or at least warn me before you put something like that in your mouth." Ray stared in disgust as Ben dug a fingernail into the dark stuff and proceeded to lick it.

"Hmm."

"What? What?"

"Peanut butter."

"Peanut butter?"

"And grape jelly. Old...I'd say not more than a week old."

"Then someone's been in here in the last week or so."

"It would appear so," Ben said as he wiped his hands on his jodhpurs and stood. "That means that that file cabinet has been moved recently as well."

"Why would anyone want to move a file cabinet then put it back? You think this has something to do with Little Mike's smugness?"

"Perhaps we should find out." Ben leaned against the file cabinet and began rocking it back-and-forth in an effort to move it away from the wall. Ray joined him on the other side and, soon, the cabinet stood in the middle of the floor. Ray shone his light on the wall where the outline of a small doorway was revealed.

"Just as I suspected."

"You knew there was something behind the wall?" A shadow of annoyance crossed Ray's face. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, Ray, I wasn't sure. The dimensions of the previous room and this one appeared to be a few feet shorter than expected."

"Fine, fine, let's see what's in there." Ray knelt in front of the small doorway and felt around the seam searching for the lock or some means of entrance. A subtle click sounded and the door slowly swung open. Ray stuck his head inside the small vault-like room revealed. "Sonofabitch!" he said.

Ben cocked his head, his acute hearing detecting a muffled ticking. His eyes widened in alarm. Grabbing Ray's arm, he pulled his friend away from the small vault and thrust him toward the outer door. "Bomb!" he shouted but his words were cut off as an explosion ripped through the room.

* * *

Phil watched the elevator doors close on Becka Fraser. After their uneasy introduction and agreement not to discuss certain forbidden topics, the two women had discovered that they had many things in common. They deftly avoided mentioning their brothers and the woman responsible for them being together today. 

As Becka had started to leave, Phil put out a restraining hand. "Please, wait just a moment, Becka." Hurrying into her room, she threw open the closet and tugged the metal file box containing Ben's memorabilia out into the middle of the floor. 

Becka followed and watched Phil dig a key out of her jewelry box and fit it into the box. When the lid was lifted, she could see the top part of a framed photo. A Stetson was all that was visible. _'Is that Ben?'_ she wondered as she watched Phil dig through the box finally coming up with a wallet of photos. She glanced around the room noting the dreamcatcher hanging above the bed and the photo of Lindy on the bedside table.

Phil rose from the floor only then noticing that Becka had seated herself on the edge of her bed. Joining her on the bed, Phil withdrew the photos from the wallet. There were precious few of them left. Selecting one, she handed it to Becka. "Here, Becka. This is all that I can offer you of Lindy."

Becka took the photo. It was a smaller version of the one hanging on Phil's wall. "Thank you, Phil. I'll treasure it always."

"I know you will. That's why I'm giving it to you. I'll ask you the same thing I asked Cat when I gave her one, please don't let Ben see it."

Becka gazed at the small photo then back up into Phil's face. "Are you going to tell him?"

Reluctantly, Phil nodded her head. "Yes, I promised Cat I would tell him. I just haven't found the right time to do so and I haven't really seen an urgent need to. He hasn't known about her for over twelve years. What's another month or so."

"He needs to know..."

"I know. I just don't know how to tell him. How do you tell someone that they've got a child they never knew and they will never know because she's dead? I don't know...it just seems so fruitless...so futile."

"Nevertheless..."

"I know...I know...he needs to know and I'll tell him. I promise you, Becka, I **will** tell him. I don't know when but I will make it soon."

Phil walked with Becka to the elevator then returned to her apartment. She reached for the lid of the box but stopped. Lying on top was the envelope Cat had given her at the first of the year containing Ben's address. She removed it from the box and cradled it in her hand. Staring at it, she began to wonder about the chances of both Cat and Becka needing to visit Chicago for whatever reasons. Becka had never said why she was in Chicago. Surely she hadn't come just for the seminar. That seemed just a little too convenient. And what about Cat? What was that business at the consulate that had needed her attention? Was that the real reason she'd come to Chicago? Or was there something else?

Phil stared at the envelope, a pounding beginning behind her eyes. Trembling, she slid her finger beneath the seal and broke it. Withdrawing the single sheet of paper, she read the information on it. The paper fluttered from nerveless fingers to settle on the floor. The pounding in her head blossomed into a full-blown migraine. She stumbled to the tiny bathroom barely making it in time to lose her lunch into the bowl of the toilet. 

Wilting against the wall of the bathroom, she rested her forehead against the cool tank of the toilet, praying that the nausea would settle soon. When her stomach seemed to be somewhat calmer, she struggled to her feet and opened the cabinet beside the mirror. Digging through it, she retrieved her migraine medication. Taking a tablet, she stared at the reflection in the mirror not liking the lost look in her eyes. 

She stumbled back into the bedroom avoiding the box on the floor. Drawing the drapes closed, she stretched out on her bed and prayed for the nausea to cease. Her hand blindly found the phone and knocked the handset off the base. She was in no mood to talk to anyone and she certainly didn't want to listen to the phone ring. 

Chance jumped onto the bed and, after sniffing her face, settled beside her. Phil brought a hand down and gently stroked the cat, taking comfort from him.

Her thoughts continued to whirl even as the pounding continued. Why hadn't Cat told her? Guiltily, Phil recalled that Cat had tried but she had continually refused to listen. Now she was paying for it. How could this have happened? What was she going to do about it? Could something be done? The questions chased themselves round and round her mind adding to her malaise. Memories flashed across the inside of her eyelids: a masked ball and a man in an antiquated Mountie uniform; a taxi ride with Jeff and a half-caught glimpse of a man in the car beside them; lunch with TJ at the Museum, a green car, and a man in a Stetson. The knowledge of those close calls overwhelmed her.

Ben was in Chicago.

* * *

Ben struggled slowly back to consciousness. Opening his eyes, he could see the offices above him engulfed in flame. Turning his head at a whimper, he lifted a hand and stroked Diefenbaker's head. "Where's Ray?"

Dief gave a short bark and disappeared from Ben's view. Another bark drew Ben's head around at an almost impossible angle but now he could see Ray's form splayed across a pile of boxes and Styrofoam peanuts. "Ray?" he called as he tried to roll over. A white-hot lancet of pain shot across his back. Drawing in a sharp breath, he fought the spinning darkness briefly before succumbing to it.

Ray lifted an arm and pushed the wolf. _'Eeuuww, wolf slobbers,'_ he thought as he propped himself on his elbow. "Get away from me, Dief. If you want to kiss somebody, go kiss Benny." The wolf barked and darted back toward the stairway to the offices that were totally engulfed in flame. Ray sat up and stared at the inferno raging above him. He needed to get out of the warehouse before the whole thing went up in flames. Where was Fraser? Shakily climbing to his feet, he searched for the Mountie. Dief's bark drew his attention and, with his heart in his throat, he ran to the form the wolf stood guard over. Shaking Ben's still form, a cold knot formed in Ray's stomach. "Benny? Are you all right? We gotta get outta here, Benny." He felt for a pulse thankful that it beat strongly beneath his fingertips. Ben moaned deep in his throat. "Benny, wake up," Ray shook his friend a little more forcefully.

"Ray?" Ben asked in a voice that had lost its normal strength.

"I'm here, Benny. We gotta get outta here before the building comes down around us." A fire-licked beam crashed in one of the offices sending sparks shooting out to rain down on the two men.

"I can't move, Ray. My back..." Ben moaned as another lancet of pain rocketed through him.

Icy fear twisted around Ray's heart as Ben's words sunk in. How could he move his friend if there was any chance of a back or neck injury? "Benny, I can't chance moving you. I'm gonna call for help..." His hurried words were cut off by yet another flaming crash from above. The walkway burned steadily and flames licked along the stairway. 

A dull rumble floated down to them and Ray threw his body across that of Ben as the walls of the two rooms collapsed in on themselves. Sparks and burning debris rained down on the two men. Ray grunted in pain as several pieces landed on his back. Levering himself up off of his friend, he shook the debris off and removed his smoldering jacket. Disregarding the stinging pain spreading across his shoulders, he bent over Ben's still form.

Unable to stop himself, Ben moaned. He drew on what remained of his strength and stilled the unwelcome evidence of his pain. A wave of heat washed over them and he turned his head slightly. The cardboard boxes and crates at the base of the walkway smoldered and burst into flame before his eyes. Ben grasped the lapels of Ray's suit and hoarsely cried, "Ray, there isn't time to wait for backup."

Fascinated like a moth, Ray watched the fire lick toward them. Ben's hoarse cry brought his mind back to their precarious position. He stared down into Ben's eyes. Fear, stark and vivid, glittered there. "Benny, your back."

"Damn my back, Ray. If we don't get out of here now, neither one of us will survive. Ray, I don't want to die like this." 

That thought tore at Ray's insides. Neither did he. Quickly taking stock of the debris surrounding them, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, Benny. I'll get you outta here. You landed on a big cardboard box and I can drag you outta here on it."

"Understood," hissed past Ben's teeth as Ray tugged on the edge of the box and slowly pulled him toward the door. After what seemed like an eternity, Ray dragged him out of the building into the waning sunlight of a Chicago evening. 

Ray didn't stop dragging the piece of cardboard on which Ben lay until he was across the street in the alley next to the Riv. Pulling his cellphone from his pocket, he dialed 9-1-1. "This is Detective Vecchio, Chicago PD. I'm at a warehouse on South Bickford. Send fire trucks and an ambulance. Officer down." That simple statement would bring the quickest response possible. 

Turning back to Ben, Ray said, "Help's coming, Benny, just hang on."

"Okay," Ben mumbled. The pain in his back had intensified as Ray dragged him from the burning building. Now he was simply thankful that Ray had stopped. Even Diefenbaker's worried whine didn't affect him. The wail of approaching sirens seemed miles away as darkness once more claimed him.

* * *

TJ knocked on the door once more. There was still no answer. Where was Phil? Jeff had said that she never came back from her luncheon with Ms. Smith. He was curious to know how the meeting had gone--if Becka had told her who she was. He had called several times reaching only a busy signal. Worried, TJ decided it was time to pay a visit to his sister and see if she was all right.

Digging into the pocket of his dark grey trousers, he pulled out his key chain and let himself into Phil's apartment. A quick glance around told him that Phil had left the kitchen in a mess. Chinese take-out cartons littered the cabinet and two glasses with melted ice shared the bar with two dirty plates. 

*Meow* Chance entwined himself about TJ's ankles.

"Hello, Buddy." TJ lifted the cat into his arms and idly stroked him. "Where's Flip?"

Chance struggled briefly before TJ placed him back on the floor. He shot off in the direction of Phil's bedroom. 

TJ shrugged his shoulders and followed the cat. He halted at the doorway letting his eyesight adjust to the darkened room. "Flip?" he called softly.

"Hmmm?"

"Flip, are you here?"

Phil slowly turned her head to face the door. The silhouette in the door could only belong to her brother. Weakly, she whispered his name, "TJ."

"Flip, what is it?" TJ asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Stupid migraine...stop shaking the bed," Phil said in a monotone.

"Did you take something for it?"

"Yes, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"When did you take it?"

"I don't know...about 2 or so."

"It's almost 6, Flip, your medicine should've worked by now."

"I know. Stupid headache...haven't had one in years. Why now?"

TJ noticed the opened box on the floor. He recognized it--the sum total of Phil's relationship with Ben Fraser in a box. He'd seen it several times already--usually just before Phil changed her mind about letting him get rid of it. Why was it open? Was this the cause of her headache? Or was it something else--or more properly, **someone** else? Had Becka visited Phil as she had said she would do and, if so, what had happened between them? Had Becka told Phil who she was?

TJ caught sight of a piece of paper on the floor and reached for it. In the light from the hallway he could see an address written in Cat's untidy scrawl. He knew the address well. He'd dropped Cat off there this past Christmas and Becka last night. It was Ben's address. Phil now knew that Ben was in Chicago. No wonder she had developed a migraine. He held the paper where Phil could see it. "I think this is probably why."

Phil opened her eyes and spied the paper held in TJ's fingers. "Damn him, TJ. Why can't he leave me alone?" Tears welled up and ran down her cheeks.

"Honestly, Flip, I doubt very much that Ben planned this."

"No, you're right, TJ. Ben didn't do this, Cat did."

"And how do you figure that?" TJ carefully wiped the tears from Phil's cheeks.

"Why did she have to send Becka to see me?"

"Becka?" So Ben's sister had visited with Phil. 

"I was just fine for years, TJ. I didn't give him a second thought but ever since I met Cat I can't seem to get him out of my mind. I don't love him, TJ, I don't...but I can't forget him either. What's wrong with me, TJ? Why can't I love Martin the way I love Ben?"

Now more than ever, TJ was convinced that Phil still cared for Ben. That little slip in Phil's impassioned question spoke volumes. Maybe what both Cat and Becka had said was true. Maybe the only way Phil and Ben could find happiness was with each other. They certainly hadn't found it with anyone else. "Flip, have you ever considered the possibility that you might still love him?" Maybe she didn't realize what she'd said. Maybe she needed a gentle reminder of what Ben had once meant to her.

Phil violently shook her head and immediately regretted it. Waves of nausea washed over her and she moaned deep in her throat before rolling on her side and struggling vainly to rise from the bed.

Sensing what was happening, TJ scooped Phil from the bed and rushed her to the bathroom. He held her shoulders as she vomited into the bowl of the toilet. "Flip, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Phil leaned back into his embrace. "No, TJ, I'm fine. I just need to lay down again and not do something stupid like shake my head."

"I don't know..."

"I do, TJ. Just give me another pill and I'll go back to bed." Phil shifted from TJ's embrace to lean against the wall.

TJ stood and removed the medicine vial from the cabinet. He read the label, his concern growing. "Flip, this prescription is a couple of years out of date."

"I know, TJ. I told you I hadn't had a migraine in years. Besides, it's all I have."

"That does it. I'm taking you to the hospital. I'll let Martin or Rob talk some sense into you." He reached down and drew Phil to her feet.

"I'm not going to the hospital, TJ. I'm not sick and that's that!" she barked as she stumbled to her bed. 

He gritted his teeth. Phil was the most stubborn female he had ever known. He knew for a fact that the only way he would be able to get her to the hospital was to bind and gag her or knock her unconscious. With a perverse sense of humor, he grinned thinking each option had its own merits. Following Phil back into her bedroom, he settled once more on the edge of her bed. 

"Okay, have it your way, Flip." He reached for the phone, placing a finger on the button in the cradle. Holding the handset to his ear, he listened for a dial tone then dialed Cook County Hospital. He was quickly answered. "Dr. Robert McKenzie, please."

"Don't call Rob," Phil begged.

"Too late," he curtly answered then turned his attention to the phone. "Hi, Rob...how are things?"

Phil listened to the one-sided conversation wishing that she could grow some wings so she could fly away or dry up and blow away or anything that would get her away from her brother. She loved him dearly but when he was angry with her she didn't want to be around him. Sighing, she turned her face away from him. It was all her fault anyway. Why had she let that stupid letter upset her so much?

"I'm at Phil's...no, nothing major's wrong. She's got a migraine and her medication is several years old...She won't let me bring her in...no, I'm sitting on her at the moment...good...I'll see you in a little bit." 

TJ hung up the phone and placed a gentle hand on Phil's arm. "Rob is coming off his shift and he said he'd stop by with something for your headache."

Phil smiled weakly at him. "Thanks, TJ."

TJ shook his head. "That's not necessary, Flip. Now you rest here until Rob comes. Okay?"

"Uh huh." Phil muttered before closing her eyes.

TJ patted her arm once more then stood. He closed the lid on the box and pushed it back into the closet where it normally resided. The letter he folded and placed in his pocket. Returning to the kitchen, he cleared the bar placing the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and the empty food cartons in the trash. He rummaged in the cabinet coming up with Phil's special blend of coffee. He had a feeling that he would be needing a cup or two as the evening progressed. Chance once more rubbed against his legs and meowed pitifully.

"What is it, Buddy? Didn't Flip feed you?' He reached for the animal and carried him into the small utility room. Placing the cat on the washer, he filled the bowls with cat food and fresh water. "There now, that should take care of you." TJ watched for a moment as Chance sniffed the bowl of food then daintily took a bite. 

Satisfied that he'd averted a major disaster, he headed back to Phil's bedroom. In the dim light from the hallway, he could see that she had not moved. He hated seeing her in any kind of pain and watching her struggle with both a headache and heartache was overwhelming. The headache could be remedied but the heartache was another matter altogether. TJ was afraid that there was only one cure for that--Ben Fraser. If that was true then it became imperative that Phil not marry Martin. He didn't want to see her make that kind of mistake. But was he reading the situation correctly? Could Phil still love the Mountie? A bittersweet memory answered his unvoiced question. Even though Noelle had died years ago, he still loved her. He could look past that love now because she was gone forever. But Ben wasn't dead and, what's more, he lived here in the same city--not more than a mile away. If Phil was to ever get past that love for him then she needed to face Ben and then move on. There was no other way. She had to make a clean break with her past before she could get on with her life. That is--if she wanted to. 

The doorbell chimed drawing TJ from his ruminations. Opening the door he was greeted by the welcome sight of his brother. "You made good time, Rob."

"Like I said, I was leaving and, you know how it is, if you don't make a quick exit you get caught up in another case or whatever. I only stopped long enough to pick up some Imitrex for Flip's migraine. How is she?"

"She's resting right now." TJ led the way to Phil's bedroom. "We need to talk once you get finished with her." Rob nodded and TJ stood in the doorway and watched him approach the bed and gently settle on the edge. He then returned to the kitchen and prepared cups of coffee for Rob and himself. It wasn't long before Rob joined him, claiming a stool at the bar.

"The medication should take effect within 15 minutes or so." He placed a vial of tablets on the bar between them. "I've tossed the old stuff and brought her an updated prescription. I don't know how many times I've told her about hanging onto prescriptions after they've expired..."

"Do you really expect her to listen to you?"

"Yes, I do. After all I am her doctor as well as being her brother. Sometimes I think she doesn't listen simply because I am her brother. Maybe Martin will have better luck with her."

"I think that's something we need to talk about?"

"Martin?"

"I'm sorry, Rob, I know Martin is a good friend of yours and you'd like to see him and Flip together but I just don't think it will work out."

"Why not?"

"I don't think she loves him enough to be able to shake the ghost of Ben Fraser."

"Fraser? Why bring him up at all?"

"Because of this." TJ withdrew the letter from his pocket and handed it to Rob.

Rob slowly took the piece of paper and unfolded it. He read the short message inside.

Phil,

If you ever find the courage to hunt Ben up, here is his address.

221 West Racine, Apartment 3J

Chicago

Or you can contact him at the Canadian consulate.

Don't' let this chance for happiness pass you by. You won't regret it.

Cat

Rob read it a second time before placing it on the countertop. "Where did this come from?"

"I imagine it came from that box of stuff she keeps hidden in the back of her closet."

"I thought you got rid of that thing."

"She changed her mind at the last moment and wouldn't let me take it."

"So, that doesn't necessarily mean that she doesn't love Martin."

"True, but if Ben doesn't mean anything to her why would this information precipitate a migraine?"

"This is what brought on her headache?"

"That and a visitor she had today." Rob arched an eyebrow and waited for TJ to continue. "Ben's sister, Becka."

"His sister? What was she doing here?"

"Becka is visiting Ben. Cat suggested that she should look up Flip while she was here."

Rob stared at TJ over the rim of his coffee cup. He swallowed a mouthful of the bitter drink before asking, "And how do you know all of this? Did Flip tell you?"

TJ hurriedly glanced down at his now empty cup before lifting his eyes to Rob. "I met Becka last night at the museum. She was a participant in my seminar."

"Coincidence?" Rob asked softly.

TJ shook his head. "No, Cat enrolled her in the seminar."

"Cat again. Is it just my imagination or has Cat taken an inordinate amount of interest in our family affairs?"

"Well, she is a part of our family now," TJ reminded Rob.

"I'm not referring to her natural interest in Lloyd and the Hopes. What I'm talking about is her obvious attempts to do something about your situation and..."

"My situation?" TJ interrupted Rob. "With Ben's sister? You and I both know that that's not possible. There's nothing there and, besides, I would never hurt Flip like that."

Rob cocked an eyebrow, surprised by the vehemence of TJ's denial. "Okay...but al least we can agree that she has gone out of her way to try and bring Flip and Ben back together. Remember the times she talked with Flip at Edge of the Earth? And what about that?" He motioned toward the letter on the counter between them.

TJ reluctantly nodded his head. "If I didn't think there was something to what she says, I'd be mighty pissed off at her. However, from what I've seen, I think she may be right."

"Unfortunately, I think I have to agree with you."

"What?" TJ's voice rose in surprise.

"I said that I agree with you." Rob sat his cup on the counter and rose from the stool and began pacing. He soon found himself in front of Phil's wall of photos. His eyes drifted over them finally settling on the one small photo of Ben Fraser. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew what TJ said was the truth. Even he could see that Phil had loved Ben more than any of the men that had entered her life including Martin Stevenson. Turning back to face TJ, he said, "We've both been through this before with Flip and know what to look for. As much as I like Martin and think he would be good for her, I don't expect their relationship to last much longer. I'm just afraid that Flip will jump into marriage with him before she realizes that she doesn't love him enough."

TJ came to stand beside Rob. "My thoughts exactly. But...what can we do? I don't want to be accused of meddling in her love life even if that's what I want to do."

"I think the best thing we can do is let her work through this on her own. She's always come to her senses before."

"I tell you, Rob, if it were possible for her and Ben to get back together I'd be the happiest man alive."

"How so?"

"Even if nothing came of it, at least they could made a clean break with each other and go on with their lives. As it stands now, Flip will always compare each and every man she meets to her memory of him. Maybe seeing him again would knock that perfect image she has of him off its pedestal."

"And maybe she would discover that she still loves him even after all these years and everything she's been through."

"Maybe..." TJ paused and glanced toward the door to Phil's bedroom. "And just maybe that's something we may have to live with."

Rob nodded his head in agreement. "Dammit, TJ. I hate him for what he did to Flip all those years ago but, at the same time, I know that she's never gotten over him. I don't know if I can look him in the face and not want to beat him to a pulp."

"You didn't do that when he was in the hospital."

"That was different. He was my patient. I don't normally go around beating up my patients. And why are **you** defending him?"

"I'm not defending him, Rob. I'm just being realistic. I just want Flip to be happy and if Ben Fraser is the only man that can make her happy then I won't stand in the way. **But**...he's going to have to answer to me for what he put her through."

"You **and** me." Rob extended his hand and TJ shook it sealing the pact they'd just made.

" **Then** I'll see if he still wants to be friends." TJ grinned. 

Rob laughed shortly and nodded his head. "Me, too." The beeping of Rob's pager interrupted anything that TJ might have said in reply. Rob scanned the number on the pager then reached for the phone. "It's the hospital." He listened to the voice on the other end of the line, grunted an affirmative answer, and then hung up the phone. "One of my former patients is in the emergency room and asking for me."

"Why don't you let someone else handle it."

"I normally would but..."

"But what?"

"It's Ben Fraser."

"What? That's impossible."

"Evidently, it's not. I'm going to check on Flip and then head back to the hospital." 

TJ watched Rob walk into Phil's room and wondered at the coincidence of what had just happened. Maybe it was a sign.

Rob sat on the edge of the bed and gently smoothed the hair out of Phil's face. When her eyes fluttered open he spoke, "How are you feeling now?'

"Drained...but the headache is almost gone."

"That's good. A night's rest will take care of the rest of it. I've replaced your old prescription with a new one. Don't use it unless you need it."

"Okay. Are you going to stay here with me?"

"No, I just got called back to the hospital. I'll head home after I finish up there. TJ is still here. Do you want him to stay with you?"

"Yes...no...I don't know. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"It's the medicine working. After I leave I want you to put your pajamas on and go to sleep."

"Okay."

"I've got to go now. If you need me you know where to find me."

Phil lifted her hand and placed it on her chest. "Right here in my heart. I love you, Rob."

"I love you, too, Flip." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead then stood and left the room.

TJ met him in the living room. "I'm going to spend the night here--just in case she needs something."

"She's a grown woman, TJ. She doesn't need either of us to baby-sit her."

"I know but..."

"No need to explain, TJ. I know exactly what you mean." Rob made his farewells and left.

* * *

Rob pushed through the double doors to the emergency ward of Cook County Hospital. Shaking his head in wonderment, he mentally praised the doctors and nurses that worked trauma. He'd done a stint here back when he was a lowly intern but it was neurosurgery that eventually claimed him. Spotting a familiar face in the sea of faces swirling through the busy area, he called out, "Dr. Greene, Mark!"

Dr. Mark Greene, chief resident in the emergency ward, turned at the call. "Rob, you made good time. Your patient is in Trauma 2." He waited for Rob to catch up with him then hurried deeper into the bowls of the emergency ward. 

"What's up?" Rob asked.

"Back trauma. He was pulled..." Dr. Greene's words were abruptly cut short by a flurry of activity that resolved itself into Ray Vecchio, Dr. John Carter, and Nurse Carol Hathaway. 

"I don't care who you think you are, that's my partner in there!" Ray shouted loud enough for most of the ER to hear.

"Detective Vecchio, we're taking care of your friend. We need to see to your injuries as well," Dr. Carter spoke in his most reasonable voice.

Unfortunately, Ray wasn't in the mood for reason. "I'm not leaving him until I know he's all right." 

"You can't go in there, Detective," Hathaway said as she barred his entrance to the trauma room.

"Just try and stop me!" Ray growled.

Rob sighed. He'd experienced Vecchio's protectiveness for the Mountie once before. Thankful that Cat wasn't here as well, Rob entered the fray. "Detective Vecchio, it's been a long time."

"Dr. McKenzie. I told them to get you. They've got Fraser in there and..."

"We'll take good care of him, Detective. In the meantime, you **will** go with Dr. Carter and let him tend to your injuries."

"Not until..."

" **Now** , Detective." 

Ray bit back his retort. He'd dealt with Dr. McKenzie after the Victoria incident. He knew he was doomed to lose this or any other 'battle of the wills' with this doctor. He also knew that Dr. McKenzie would do everything possible for his friend. There was some 'connection' between the doctor and Benny. He didn't know what that connection was, but it existed nonetheless. Sullenly, he said, "Take care of Benny, Doc."

Rob smiled crookedly and nodded his head. "I will, Detective. I will. Now go with Dr. Carter." He shared a momentarily eye contact with Ray letting him know that he would do the best he could for Ben.

Assured that Ben was in the best of hands, Ray let himself be led to an adjacent room. Once inside, the flurry of activity surrounding him momentarily drove thoughts of Ben to the back of his mind.

"Let's take a look at your back," Dr. Carter said as Ray sat on the edge of the examination table. "Let's get that shirt off," Carter directed the nursing staff.

Ray's hand shot up and captured Carter's arm. "Answer me a quick question...why do you doctors talk like that? Do they teach you that in medical school? Ouch! Be careful! That hurt." Ray jerked away from the eager hands that helped him remove his shirt.

"You're doing fine, Detective...Vecchio is it?"

"Yeah, yeah, Ray Vecchio." Ray raised a hand and ran it across his face. He suddenly didn't feel so good. In fact, he felt quite sick, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Doc?" he whispered before pitching forward in a dead faint.

A good ER staff was one that was able to anticipate complications. The ER staff at Cook County Hospital was one of the best. Strong arms were there to catch Ray before he could hit the floor.

"Let's get him back on the table, folks," Carter said as he helped lift Ray and place him gently on his stomach on the exam table.

Ray moaned and his eyes fluttered open. "What happened?"

"You fainted."

"No way!" Ray struggled to roll over but several sets of hands held him down.

"Just stay put, Detective, and let us tend to your burns."

"Burns?" Only then did Ray allow himself to feel the waves of pain that rippled across his back.

"It probably feels worse than it looks, Detective." Returning to his work, Carter remarked, "Looks like first-degree and some second-degree burns. You're very fortunate."

"How so?"

"It could have been a lot worse. As it is, we'll admit you to the hospital for observation and, most likely, you can go home tomorrow."

Ray groaned. "I gotta call my family and try to get hold of Benny's sister." Pushing himself up, he asked, "Where can I find a phone?"

"You're not going anywhere just yet, Detective. You can make your calls once you reach your room." Carter again restrained Ray's attempt to rise from the table.

"But..."

"But nothing, Detective. The sooner you cooperate with us the sooner you can get to your room."

Ray stared at the young doctor, irritation plain on his face. "Are all you doctors so pushy?" Carter just smiled and continued to work over Ray's prostrate form.

* * *

Rob slipped on the gown held open for him by a nurse, then pushed his way into the trauma room. Ben lay on a table in the center of the room, his head, neck, and back held immobile by a brace. People bustled about doing their part to insure that this patient survived. Stepping closer, Rob could see that Ben was conscious and arguing with a nurse.

"You will not cut off my boots nor will I allow you to cut off my uniform." Although the words were weak there was a hint of force behind them.

Leaning over the prostrate form, Rob said, "Hello, Constable. Still worried about your clothing?"

"Rob, uh, Dr. McKenzie. I...uh...I..."

"Don't worry, we'll only cut what's absolutely necessary. Okay?" Ben warily nodded his head. "Okay, people, let's get him undressed. Take it slowly and carefully. You heard me, no cutting unless absolutely necessary."

The staff gently but quickly went to work and soon the Mountie wore nothing but a hospital sheet draped across his midsection. The only casualties were his tunic and undershirt. Unable to remove them without undoing the brace, they had been sacrificed. The tunic had been slit along the seams so it was salvageable but the Henley was a loss.

"I want X-rays, CBC..." Rob spouted a list of tests and procedures to the hovering staff. "Has he been lavaged?" 

Dr. Greene answered, "Clear--no blood." 

Rob smiled with relief; no blood meant no internal bleeding. Turning back to Ben, he asked, "What happened?"

"Where's Ray?" The absence of his partner struck him.

"He's next door having his own injuries tended to. Now tell me what happened, Constable."

Ben related the bare details of the explosion and his fall. All around him, the staff went about their jobs drawing blood, checking IV's, monitoring his every breath and heartbeat. Panic hovered close by. He hated hospitals. Just when he thought he would lose his control, he felt a hand on his arm. Rob's compassionate gaze calmed him. Ben knew that he was in the best of hands. He also knew that Rob would do his best not because of Phil but because he was a good doctor--a good friend. Or he had been at one time.

"Don't worry, Ben," Rob said in a voice only Ben could hear. Turning his attention to the staff around the trauma table, he motioned to Dr. Greene to join him as he worked over the stricken Mountie. Several minutes passed as both men applied all their skills to helping Ben. Finally, Dr. Greene nodded with his head toward the door and Rob followed him to stand at that portal. A quick conference and the two doctors returned to their patient. 

"Constable, we're going to take a series of X-rays and see how much damage you've sustained to your back. Until we ascertain the extent of your injuries, we will leave you in this brace. 

A cold chill brought goosebumps to Ben's body and he unconsciously shivered. The memories of his last back injury haunted his thoughts and he couldn't help the wave of panic that swept over him. 

Rob once more leaned over Ben's prostrate form. "They're bringing in the portable X-ray machine now. We'll talk as soon as Dr. Greene and I've had a chance to examine the films. Will you be all right?" Ben bravely nodded his head and managed to ask about Ray. "I'm going to check on Detective Vecchio now." Rob squeezed Ben's arm once more then headed toward the doors. As he opened the doors, he spotted Dief doing his best to blend in with the equipment in a corner of the trauma room. "Oh, the wolf already has permission to be here," he told the security officer who eyed the animal with trepidation. 

Rob entered the room adjacent to the one occupied by Ben Fraser. Detective Vecchio sat on the exam table arguing with Carol Hathaway as she bandaged a cut on his forehead. The burns on his back had already been dealt with and the detective's torso was swathed with gauze. Dr. Carter stood nearby making notations in a chart.

Ray caught sight of Rob the moment he walked through the doors. "How's Benny?" he asked.

"He's fine at the moment, Detective. I'll know more as soon as I've seen his X-rays. How are things here, Dr. Carter?" Rob turned his attention to the young intern.

"I'm admitting Det. Vecchio for observation. I don't anticipate any problems but it never hurts to be safe."

"Wise precaution." Rob turned back to Ray. "I'm admitting Constable Fraser as well. Since you are still listed as his next-of-kin, I will tell you what we know. For the moment there appears to be no internal injuries or other life-threatening injuries. As far as trauma to his back, I'll know more after I've seen the X-rays. I'm afraid we're looking at a stay of several days at least depending on the severity of his injuries."

"Damn, he ain't gonna like that."

"I know, but he has no choice in the matter."

"You don't know him like I do, Doc. I've seen him crawl out of his bed and leave the hospital to chase a bad guy."

"I see your point, Detective. I'll have a talk with him about that later. I'll make him promise to stay put until I release him."

"You think that will do any good?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. The constable has always been an honorable man." Rob winced. _'All except for that one time when he let Phil down.'_

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ray reached for his shirt and, seeing the state it was in, looked around for something else to put on. 

"I'll see that a gown is brought to you."

"Thanks, Doc. I can wear it until my family brings me something more comfortable to wear."

Rob chuckled. "I understand completely, Detective." Rob cleared his throat before broaching the next subject--Cat. "Detective, considering the events surrounding Constable Fraser's last stay here, do you think Ca...Sergeant Madden should be informed of his condition?'

Ray ran a hand over his face. Cat...he hadn't even thought about her in all of this mess. What would he tell her? What could he tell her? He'd promised to watch over Benny and, yet, here he was--injured while helping Ray with one of his cases. Frankly, he didn't want to be the one to tell Cat that. 

Reluctantly, Rob said, "I can make the call if you want me to, Detective." 

"No, no, I'll do it." Better she learned it from him rather than from someone else.

Mentally, Rob sighed. He had hoped that the detective would be the one to call Cat. Somehow he just knew that Ben's suspicions would be aroused and once that happened, it was a short step to discovering Cat's connection with Rob's family--a complication better avoided if possible.

A male nurse entered the room pushing a wheelchair. "Are you ready to go up to your room, sir?"

"Do I have any choice in the matter?"

"No," simultaneously came from the mouths of Rob, Hathaway, and Carter.

"Looks like you don't have much choice, sir," the nurse said and chuckled.

Ray grimaced but slipped on the hospital gown handed to him and allowed Hathaway and Carter to settle him in the wheelchair. Focusing back on Rob, he said, "As soon as you know anything about Benny, I want to know."

"I'll keep you informed, Detective." Rob held open the door as Ray was wheeled out into the corridor. The nurse took Ray's file and, placing it in a pocket on the back of the wheelchair, pushed him down the hallway.

Rob stared after the mismatched couple, then smiled. It was good to know that Ben had good friends. He headed toward the small consultation room where the ER doctors could study charts, lab reports, and X-rays without having to deal with the everyday hustle and bustle of the ER. His fingers itched to get hold of the X-rays and tests that had been performed on Ben. After he had a chance to look at them, he'd have a better handle on what was wrong with his back. There was no paralysis; a simple running of a pen across the soles of Ben's feet had shown that. But the potential for additional damage to his back from the trauma of the bullet embedded there was uppermost in Rob's mind. If only he'd been able to remove it two years ago when Ben had been shot. But it hadn't been possible at the time and now...

Rob hoped the X-rays would show nothing new. Dr. Greene joined him carrying several X-ray films. Slapping the films into position, he turned the light on, and they poured over the films together. Several minutes later, Rob sighed with relief. The bullet still lay near the T-8 vertebrae. However, the X-rays did reveal three broken ribs and, of more serious concern, a compressed disc. Rob winced guessing at the pain that the Mountie was certainly experiencing. The rest of the reports confirmed Dr. Greene's initial diagnosis. Discussing appropriate treatment, the two men came to an agreement. 

"It's been great working with you, Mark."

"Same here, Rob. We don't see enough of you down here."

"What do you mean? You rarely see me," Rob joked.

"That's what I mean." Greene grinned back at Rob. "Are we still on for tomorrow?" Rob and Mark Greene often jogged together during their lunch hour.

"Sure thing. I can use the exercise." Rob patted his still narrow waist. Mark laughed and left the consultation room.

Rob filed the information in Ben's chart and headed back to talk to the man who'd once been his friend. Stopping at the desk that commanded a central location in ER, he made his requirements known. When he was assured that the proper equipment was on the way down he headed toward Trauma 2. He pushed through the doors of the trauma room and approached the exam table where the captive Mountie lay. 

Coming to where Ben could see his face, Rob spoke to him, "I've got good news and bad news, Constable. Which do you want to hear first?"

Ben thought a moment, crushing the panic that threatened. "Tell me the bad news first, Dr. McKenzie."

"You've got three broken ribs and a compressed disc. I imagine you're in considerable pain." Motioning to a hovering nurse, he gave the go-ahead to administer some pain medication. "That will take care of that, but I have to warn you that I'm placing you in traction to alleviate the pressure on that disc and to help your back to heal. That's the bad news."

"And the good?"

Rob stared at Ben for a moment knowing what Ben feared the most. It was the same fear that had haunted him until he had seen the X-rays. "Don't worry, Constable, the bullet hasn't shifted. It's right where it's supposed to be. You were spared more serious injury by landing on those piles of cardboard and Styrofoam. They broke your fall."

The doors slamming open interrupted their conversation and a contraption that looked suspiciously like a medieval instrument of torture was wheeled in. In short order the staff had Ben transferred to the bed and his back held immobile in the traction unit.

"Dr. McKenzie?" Ben asked searching for Rob amidst the many faces moving about him.

"I'm here, Constable." Rob placed a hand on Ben's arm and smiled down at him.

"How long?"

"Depending on how you respond to treatment--it could be anywhere from one to ten days, maybe more." Ben groaned. Rob chuckled and said, "At least I don't have to worry about you checking yourself out before I release you."

A shadow of a smile played across Ben's lips. No, there was no way he'd be able to sneak out of the hospital as long as he was bound into this contraption. "Doesn't look like it," he agreed. Changing the subject, he asked, "What can you tell me about Det. Vecchio?"

"Det. Vecchio has first- and second-degree burns across his back."

"He threw himself across me."

"I thought it was something like that. Anyway, he's been admitted for observation. He will probably be allowed to leave tomorrow."

Ben nodded his head as best he could. "I need to contact my sister."

"I believe Det. Vecchio is seeing to that."

"We're ready, Dr. McKenzie," one of the burly male nurses spoke.

"Then let's get this show on the road." A hand clutched his and Rob looked down to see Ben's hand on his. Not a sound passed Ben's mouth but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. "I'll come up with you, if that's all right?"

"I'd appreciate that, Dr. McKenzie."

Rob followed behind the hospital bed with the elaborate traction unit as it threaded through the back corridors of the hospital, finally arriving at an oversized elevator. He stood beside the bed as the elevator carried them to Ben's abode for the next several days. As they exited the elevator Rob motioned to the charts he carried. "I'll see you in your room as soon as I take care of these," Rob spoke to Ben.

"Thank you kindly."

Rob carried Ben's chart to the nurse's desk and conferred with the head nurse. When he left, the nurse watched him go making a mental note to give the patient in 5527B the red carpet treatment. Although unspoken, the concern for this particular patient had been more than evident in Dr. McKenzie's attitude.

Rob stopped in the doorway of room 5527 and watched his former friend. Ben lay quietly, staring out the window as lightning flashed in the distant storm clouds. 

"Looks like we're in for a rough night tonight," Rob said by way of an opener.

Ben's head turned slightly at Rob's voice. His gaze shifted back to night sky once more rippling with lightning. "I've always enjoyed watching a thunderstorm. I can remember as a small child running outside to watch the lightning and waiting for the thunder to roll. I've never seen a tornado though. I'd like to see one...someday."

"You sound a lot like Phil. She loves storms, too." Rob was surprised that he'd broached the subject of his sister. That was something he'd vow he would never do with this man. Yet, here he was talking about her to Ben. He watched as a shadow passed across Ben's expressive face.

"I remember." Ben was lost in thought for a moment then refocused his sight on Rob's face. "How is she?"

Rob quirked an eyebrow questioningly. "Why?"

Ben raked a thumb across his eyebrow. Why indeed? In all the time he'd spent in this hospital after being shot, he'd resisted the urge to ask Rob about his sister. Why now? "I don't know, Rob. I guess I just wanted to know that she was all right. I've listened to all that Cat had to tell me, but I guess I just want to hear it from you. Is Phil all right?" His throat constricted around her name and he felt as if he would never be able to swallow again. He turned his sight back to the window.

Rob watched Ben struggle for control. Was it possible that he still cared for Phil? Was what TJ said the truth? Could there be hope for them? He pushed those questions to the back of his mind and answered Ben. "Phil is fine. She's great, in fact. You probably wouldn't recognize her. After you..." Rob paused then continued, "After you left her, she went through a bad period but she pulled out of that." Rob thought of all that had happened after Lindy's death. "She's grown stronger and more confident of herself and her abilities. Unfortunately, she's still as stubborn as always." Rob's soft-spoken discourse was interrupted by a feminine voice from the doorway.

"Benny, are you all right?" Becka flew across the room stopping beside his bed and searching his face. 

"I'll let Dr. McKenzie fill you in on my condition." 

"Well, get on with it," Ray demanded as he entered the room clad in a hospital robe. He joined Rob and Becka beside the bed.

Becka smoothed her hair down and extended her hand to Rob. "I'm Becka Fraser, Ben's sister."

"This is Dr. McKenzie. He took care of Benny after..." Ray stumbled to a stop.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fraser."

Becka's expression grew thoughtful. Hadn't Cat said something about the third McKenzie sibling being a doctor and treating Ben after the Victoria incident? Could this man possibly be Phil's brother? 

"Are you related to TJ McKenzie?" Becka asked, changing Phil to TJ at the last moment. 

"My brother," Rob answered quietly acknowledging the unspoken wish not to mention Phil.

"What can you tell us about Benny?" Ray reentered the conversation.

"He's a very fortunate man." Rob went on to repeat the information he'd already given to Ben.

"I would like to run some more tests on you after you've healed from this but, for right now, we'll hold off. You're going to be sore for some time. The ribs will heal in six to eight weeks, probably less with your recuperative powers. As for the traction...we'll just have to see but I really don't foresee you needing to remain in it for any great length of time. We'll just have to watch things carefully."

"When can he go home?" Becka asked.

Catching Ben's eye, Rob answered, "Not for at least a week, maybe more. I know how much you abhor hospitals but this is really for the best. I want to be certain that you give your back the rest it needs and I'm not sure you would do that on your own."

"You do know him, don't you?" Ray laughed.

"I promise you that I'll release you at the earliest. Just don't anticipate me and do it yourself or I'll keep you in this thing for the full time. Do I have your promise?"

Ben reluctantly nodded his head. He knew what Rob said was the truth. 

"Good, I'll be back to check on you tomorrow morning."

Ben grasped Rob's hand. "Thank you, Rob, for everything."

Rob stared down at Ben, understanding in his eyes. "You're welcome, Ben." Strolling to the door, he turned and watched Ben for a moment. Maybe TJ was right. Maybe Ben and Phil were meant to be together. Maybe...

* * *

Later that night after Becka had finally conceded defeat and went home with Ma Vecchio and Frannie; after Dief had visited the nurse's desk and made the rounds of the floor; after Ben had fallen into a restless sleep, an alarm went up in a ward devoted to minor injuries. A patient was missing. An alert went throughout the hospital. A nurse making rounds through the neurology unit discovered the missing patient. Ray Vecchio slumbered on the other bed in Ben's room. 

Ray had been unable to sleep, worrying over his friend. Not wanting to alarm Becka anymore than she already was, he had refrained from expressing the horror he experienced when he first entered Ben's room. His friend was bound up inside something straight out of a Stephen King novel and Ray was certain the doctors weren't telling him everything. Throwing back his covers, he grabbed the bathrobe his mother had brought him and slipped his feet into his slippers. Stealthily, he made his way to the stairwell and climbed it to the fifth floor. He sneaked into Ben's room and curled up on the other bed. Looking over at Ben's shadowy form, he sighed and closed his eyes. Sleep caught him unawares.

The night nurse noticed Ray in the supposedly empty bed. Recognizing him, she notified security that she'd located their missing patient. Returning to the room, she carefully removed his slippers and spread a blanket over him. She then went over to the other bed and studied the man asleep there. In the faint light from the hallway, she could see that he was extremely handsome. But that wasn't what brought the smile to her lips. That came from the knowledge that he had family and friends that cared for him. She silently stole from the room and continued her rounds.

 

To be continued (?)

Copyright May 1999 by Cassandra Hope

Comments are welcome at 

durango@ionet.net

 

Nothing Lasts Forever

(Book 2 of the  
Ben and Phil Saga)

  1. Nothing Lasts Forever
  2. Of Second Chances by Carol Trendall
  3. Winter is Cold in America by Carol Trendall
  4. Lavender Memories
  5. Distractions by Carol Trendall
  6. No Aphrodisiac by Carol Trendall
  7. Life's Insanity by Carol Trendall
  8. Standing on the Edge by Carol Trendall
  9. Of Past Regrets and Future Fears by Carol Trendall
  10. A Summoning of Things Past
  11. Three Parts Dead
  12. A Job Well Done
  13. Touchstones of Character
  14. But For the Night
  15. Tangled Webs
  16. Suspicions
  17. Chasms of the Mind (with Carol Trendall)
  18. Outskirts by Carol Trendall



 


End file.
